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Lennart’s body trembled with the aftershock of Zedya’s kiss. His powerful muscles felt weak, and her sweet taste mixed with the faint coppery flavor of his own blood lingered on his tongue, like the aftertaste of their vows carved in the flesh of their lips.

"I’m ready, my Zedya," Lennart said, placing his paws over her hands as she cupped his face before tracing his way along her arms, barely brushing her alabaster skin with the tips of his claws until he could hold her by the shoulders.

Zedya’s eyes burned with a pale amethyst flame unlike any Lennart had seen from her before, and she radiated a predatory hunger that he’d previously only seen from other vampires, like Savis or Tausau.

But mixed with that hunger was a deep desire that left Lennart yearning to throw himself into her arms, answering the heat of her desire with his own.

"Bare your wrist for her," Nyrielle commanded, hovering in the shadows behind Lennart’s burly figure.

"It takes longer to feed from the wrist than from the neck or the thigh, but this is the first time she will need to stop just short of death.

The wrist is slower, and the pain will last longer, but the risks are lower," she explained.

"I understand," Lennart replied, folding the spills of lace back as he rolled up his sleeve. "Zedya, my wife," he said, savoring the sound of the word ’wife’ as it slipped from his tongue. "Will you bite, or should I use a blade to open my veins for you?"

"You should come with me," Zedya said, taking the hand he offered and pulling him to his feet, tugging him in the direction of the cavern wall.

"Sit here on the floor," she said, tapping gently on the cold stone ground.

"Then let me sit in your lap," she added, continuing to hold his hand as he lowered himself to the ground.

For a moment, her hunger subsided as she wished that she could do something to ease this moment for him.

To use her Mesmerizing Gaze to pull him into a world of soft blankets, or a field filled with flowers, or anything that would have felt warmer and more welcoming than the cold stone of the secluded cave.

Using her gaze on him, however, would dull his senses and his ability to keep his wits about him as she pulled him closer to death than he’d ever been.

One moment of inattentiveness, one relaxed moment of surrender and acceptance of death, and he would plunge forever into the abyss, dying in her arms before she could offer him everlasting life.

"Hold me," Zedya commanded softly as she settled herself across Lennart’s thick, meaty thighs and leaned against his broad, muscular chest. Sitting there as he wrapped his powerful arms around her, she momentarily felt like a doll held in the loving arms of a gentle giant. Everyone from the Clan of the Great Claw was larger than most humans, and Lennart was nearly two feet taller than her, but in all the years she’d known him, she never felt as small as she did right now.

For Lennart, it was a moment that he wanted to last forever as he enveloped Zedya’s slender figure in his furry arms. He almost enveloped her torso completely in the embrace as he pulled her close against his body, deeply inhaling the scent of lavender and midnight dew that clung to his petite wife.

"Now," Zedya said slowly, taking hold of his wrist and gently stroking his hand as she brought it to her lips.

"You will feel pain, then a deep, relaxing pleasure. When that pleasure turns to pain, you must stay still. You must resist the urge to struggle, to fight, to flee. You must remain just as you are until I’ve drunk down to the very last drop of blood within your body. "

"I will stay just as I am," Lennart promised, gently nuzzling the top of Zedya’s head with his nose. "I am ready."

Standing off to the side, Nyrielle said nothing as the newlyweds savored a moment that might come to be their last. It took careful preparation to make another vampire, and Nyrielle had confidence that the pair would succeed.

Lennart had offered himself to her or her progeny many times over his long years of service.

He was familiar with what it felt like to become food under the fangs of a powerful vampire.

And Zedya had lived as a vampire for decades.

Accidents in feeding affected almost every young vampire, and for that reason, Nyrielle had carefully guided her progeny in their hunts during their first year as vampires.

But accidents were almost unheard of by the time any of her progeny reached Zedya’s age.

She should know herself well in this, and she should stop at the appropriate moment.

And yet, two things made this different from anything Zedya had ever done before.

This time, she wasn’t stopping at the moment where pleasure turned to pain, but at the moment where even pain faded away, and life all but flickered out underneath her fangs.

More importantly, this time, she was drinking from a man whose deep love for her would fill his blood with the rich flavors of devotion and self-sacrifice.

It would create an intoxicating flavor that was hard to resist consuming until the very last drop was gone.

And so, Nyrielle cloaked herself in darkness and shadows, leaving the couple with the illusion that they were alone in this most intimate moment, yet hovering nearby in case she needed to intervene.

Zedya meant too much to her to see her fail at this delicate moment and the scars that would form on her healing heart might never heal again if they lost Lennart tonight.

And even Lennart himself had come to mean more to her than a simple captain of her guard.

He might not have become part of her family in the way that her progeny were, but he was someone who had earned her respect and confidence as well as her deep gratitude for the feelings of love and joy he inspired in her beloved Zedya.

And so, if Nyrielle detected the slightest chance that the couple might fail tonight, she vowed to intercede, even if it meant taking Lennart as her own progeny to save his life.

It would deny him an intimate connection to the woman he loved, but it was far, far superior to the alternative of watching helplessly and doing nothing.

For several minutes, Zedya drank in the warmth of Lennart’s body along with the rich scent of cedar soap and natural musk that felt so unique to him.

After tonight, his body, like hers, would be cold unless he’d recently fed, and the heart that beat so fiercely for her would slow until it appeared that it didn’t beat at all.

But underneath the scent that was so strongly his, the faintest scent of blood trickling from his lip reignited the hunger that burned deep within her, fueling the need to make him hers, now and forever more.

The fangs in her mouth grew longer as her lips parted and she brought his naked wrist, striking with the speed of a snake to spare him as much pain as she could before she could drink her fill of the intoxicating nectar that gave him life.